


satin and silk

by remy (iamremy)



Series: askbox prompts (multifandom) [26]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Tries, Frottage, Humor, Injured Sam Winchester, M/M, Mary makes a brief appearance - Freeform, Season/Series 12, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, disastrous attempts at sex ensue, sam and dean are super horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 05:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21423031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/remy
Summary: anonymous asked:9. "At what point did you think that was a good idea?”  any pairing ! ~Tina
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: askbox prompts (multifandom) [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1490804
Comments: 12
Kudos: 125





	satin and silk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [motorcitydreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/motorcitydreams/gifts).

> this is inspired by a similar scene in _daybreak_, starring colin ford. it's on netflix, and i recommend it highly if you enjoy zombie apocalypses, endless possibly coincidental spn references, teenagers being dumbasses, and absolutely no respect for the fourth wall.
> 
> enjoy!

They haven’t had sex in three weeks, thanks to Mary. Not just because she has no idea they’re together, but because there’s something distinctly unsexy about trying to get laid while their mother is in the house, possibly walking by the door at that very moment.

And then one day at dinner, out of the blue, she says, “The local drive-in is showing classics. Well, classics for you boys, I suppose.” She smiles wistfully. “John and I used to go to the movies every weekend.”

“You should go,” Dean says at once, and then winces when it comes out too eager. “You know, it’ll be good for you to leave the house a little bit, get some fresh air,” he adds in an attempt to smooth it over. Last thing he needs is Mary thinking he doesn’t want her around.

Well, he _doesn’t_, but just for a few hours.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” she says thoughtfully. “I’ve missed drive-ins. Netflix is cool and all, but nothing can replace the actual thing, you know?”

“Yeah,” says Sam. “You should go, Mom,” he tells her with a smile.

She smiles back. It’s hard not to, when Sam brings out the dimples. “You know what? I will.” She gets to her feet, shoving her hands in her pockets. “I’ll just… I’ll be back, then, I guess,” she says. “Don’t stay up.”

“Have fun, Mom,” Dean tells her with a smile, already making plans.

The moment he hears the bunker door clang shut after her, he gets to his feet. “Stay here,” he tells Sam, already halfway out of the library.

“What?” Sam asks, confused.

“My room, five minutes,” Dean tells him over his shoulder, before breaking into a run. He has no idea how long Mom will be gone for, and he’s been in a low-key state of arousal for _weeks_, absolutely losing his fucking mind every time Sam so much as brushes against him, and he intends to make the most of the time they have.

He tidies up as quickly as he can – he’s kind of a slob when it’s just him, leaving beer bottles and takeout boxes everything, because Sam’s not around to nag him into cleaning up. He dumps everything into the bin in the corner of his room and then stares in dismay at his sheets, two weeks old, rumpled up, and stained with pizza sauce – and then he makes a quick decision.

It takes two minutes for him to change the sheets. A couple months ago he’d bought these really soft satin sheets he’d found at a store in town, deep red and silky to the touch. It had been an impulse buy, and he’d made some vague plans in his head to use them at some point, but had never really had the chance until now.

Sam knocks on the door just as Dean finishes putting the newly-wrapped pillowcases back. “Dean?” he calls.

“Come in!” Dean says, positioning himself just next to the door.

He’s on Sam the moment Sam enters, hands fisted in Sam’s shirt as he presses Sam into the wall, mouth chasing those pretty pink lips. Sam laughs a little into the kiss, grabbing back at Dean. “I missed you too,” he says playfully when they part for breath.

“Been so damn long,” Dean growls, nipping at Sam’s jaw. “I’ve been going fucking _crazy_–” He lets go of Sam’s shirt and reaches for his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling Sam’s zipper down in one smooth movement. Sam is half-hard already, and so is Dean, both of them desperate from arousal.

“Need you,” Sam pants, tilting his head back to allow Dean better access to his throat. “Need you _now_, Dean, shit–”

“I got you,” Dean murmurs, divesting Sam of his jeans and boxers in one go. He takes a step back to take his own shirt off, and then his jeans, and by the time he’s done Sam’s naked too, completely hard now. “Come on,” he says, grabbing Sam’s hand and leading him to the bed. “Dunno how long we got, baby, let’s get to it–”

“Yeah,” says Sam, letting Dean press him to the bed on his back. “Been _forever_, Dean, fuck–”

“Feels like it,” Dean agrees, settling over Sam, braced on his elbows. He kisses him again, deep and filthy, and his cock twitches at the needy sound Sam lets out, muffled into Dean’s mouth.

It’s a little hard to get purchase thanks to the sheets, but Dean does his best, propping himself up on one arm so he can reach in between them and take both their dicks in hand. Sam’s pupils are blown wide, face and body flushed, nipples hard, and he moans again when Dean’s hand closes around them. “Yes, Dean, _please_–”

“I got you,” Dean tells him again, leaning down to kiss him. “I got you, Sammy–” He moves his hand up and down, barely able to get his fingers around both their dicks, and then decides to spare himself the wrist strain. Taking his hand away, he plants it next to Sam’s head, and then begins moving his hips, grinding down into Sam.

It feels heavenly, the slip and slide of it. Both of them are leaking precome already, and it helps smooth the way, with just a slight edge of friction to it, enough to make it pleasurable. Sam’s arms go around Dean’s shoulder, head thrown back, and Dean can’t resist the sight of him, eyes closed, throat bared – he leans in and sucks a hickey right over Sam’s pulse point, delighting in the sounds he draws out, the unrestrained moaning–

“More, Dean, I need more,” Sam pants out, and Dean increases the speed of his thrusts. It’s getting messier now, precome splashing on Sam’s belly and rubbing against Dean’s, and Sam’s long, _long_ legs wrapping themselves around Dean’s waist. And it’s embarrassing how close Dean is already, but fuck, it’s been a while, sue him if he’s been horny and touch-starved for the better part of a month–

And then his arm gives out.

Dean scrabbles to remain upright, but his skin slips against the satin and he comes crashing down, forehead crashing into Sam’s nose. Sam lets out a shout of pain, hands flying to his face, while Dean struggles to roll off him, cursing loudly.

“Fuck, _fuck_, Sammy, are you all right?”

Sam’s nose is dripping blood, dark red and ugly, and there are tears of pain in his eyes as he tries to sit up. Dean helps him up as carefully as he can, apologizing the entire time. “Shit, fuck, baby I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry–”

“Ice,” Sam grinds out, tilting his head back, both hands still pressed to his nose. “Ice–”

“Got it,” Dean says, and scrambles off the bed, not caring that he’s naked as he rushes out into the hallway. Fuck, fuck, he’s fucked up so bad–

The bleeding has lessened by the time he returns, and Sam’s cleaned most of his face up with one of their shirts, but there is still blood flowing sluggishly from his nose. He accepts the ice pack gratefully and presses it to his face, wincing. “I think I’m going to have a black eye,” he mutters.

Dean sits down next to him. “God, Sam,” he says. “I’m so sorry. I just– fuck, I slipped. These stupid fucking sheets.”

“It’s _satin_, Dean, at what point did you think that was a good idea?” Sam asks him, grimacing. He lets Dean touch him, though, even leans into his touch as Dean brushes his hair back from his face and tucks it behind his ear.

“I was trying to be romantic,” Dean mutters. “Been a while, Sammy. I wanted it to be good for both of us.”

Sam softens at that. “Dean,” he says, smiling at him from behind the ice pack. “It’s always good for me. _You’re_ always good. I appreciate the gesture, I do, but…” He huffs out a short laugh, and then winces again. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” Dean says automatically, grimacing as well.

Sam leans into his side, resting his head on his shoulder. “What do we tell Mom?”

“You slipped on the stairs,” Dean says at once.

“Dude, _no_,” Sam protests. “Makes me sound clumsy.”

“Yes, I’m sure the truth will make us both sound so much better,” Dean says sarcastically.

“Ugh, we’ll figure something out,” Sam says after a moment. “Right now, though?” With his free hand he points to his crotch. Dean’s surprised to find him still hard. “We need to take care of business, Dean.”

Dean lets out an amused snort. “Seriously? You still wanna fuck?”

“Hell yes, Dean, I’m not waiting for the next time Mom leaves the house,” Sam says, taking the ice pack off and putting it aside. His nose is bright red and so are his cheeks, but it looks unbroken, thankfully.

“Fair point,” Dean says, and leans back against the headboard.

Sam straddles him, resting his hands on Dean’s shoulders. And just like that Dean’s back to being hard too, the sensation of Sam’s ass on his cock filling it up in no time. Sam notices, grinning at Dean, and leans in to kiss him. Dean cranes his neck up, one hand on the back of Sam’s head to pull him down, and wraps the other around their cocks again.

This time Sam helps him, putting his hand over Dean’s and moving it in rhythm, with smooth, unhurried strokes. Occasionally he brushes his thumb across Dean’s slit, making Dean moan, and in response Dean tightens his grip just a little, moving his wrist the way he knows Sam likes.

“Yeah, Dean, like that, just like that–”

“Got you, darlin’, I got you–”

It doesn’t take long before they’re both coming, Dean’s mouth pressed into Sam’s collarbone, Sam’s head thrown back, their hands and bellies spattered with come. Sam goes boneless against Dean almost immediately, and Dean catches him before he can slip and break something else. “Careful there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, gently moving Sam until he’s lying down on his side.

“C’mere,” Sam says to him, blissed out and languid, and smiles slowly when Dean joins him.

“You good?” he asks.

Sam nods. “Yeah.” He reaches for the discarded ice pack and presses it to his face again.

Dean sighs, then decides to distract himself by sitting and cleaning them up. “Gonna be feeling awful about that for a while,” he mutters, finally lying back down next to Sam again.

“Don’t,” Sam tells him simply. “The sex was worth it.”

That makes Dean snicker. “How horny were you, really?” he asks, reaching out to trace along the sharp line of Sam’s hipbone.

Sam laughs, the sound weirdly nasal thanks to his injury. “You don’t even know,” he tells Dean.

“Don’t I,” Dean says, and laughs too. “You know what, though, next time let’s just tell Mom we’re going on a hunt, and find a motel.”

“Sounds good,” says Sam with a grin. “No more satin sheets.”

“No more satin sheets,” Dean confirms, and leans in to kiss Sam’s forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback would be greatly appreciated :)
> 
> love,  
remy


End file.
